Morning Commute
by atlasundone
Summary: AU - Callie & Arizona meet on a subway train  and are instantly smitten .   Decided to continue .
1. Chapter 1

A/N : Hey guys- just a little one-shot. (Never posted to this site before). Also feel free to check out my fanvid, which is totally unrelated - .com/watch?v=Eacg41rRNbw

Arizona was standing on the subway platform as the train slowed to a stop in front of her. She sighed as she saw through the windows that people were already being forced to stand. This was typical of the morning commute, but Arizona hated it nonetheless. Strangers pressing into or her, or worse, falling into her; having to hold on to the germ-infested railing to keep her own balance; the claustrophobic feeling of sharing a small space with too many people. As a doctor, Arizona was acutely aware that every cough and sneeze was a flu waiting to happen.

She boarded the train and wedged herself between the already-boarded patrons until she could find enough space to stand. Only one more stop before the subway turned into an express train; she hoped that more people would be getting off than getting on. She grasped the rail above her head and looked down to avoid the awkwardness that comes with being in someone else's personal space. Instead, she gave herself the once over. She was wearing a fitted black blouse, dark, tapered skinny jeans, and her favorite pair of blue Jimmy Choos.

Arizona looked up as she felt the train come to a stop. In a flourish, people were moving both on and off. Unfortunately, there were still as many people riding alongside her – if not more. _Stand clear of the closing doors_, she heard over the intercom, as the last few people found a place to stand.

Callie had just boarded the train when she looked up to see the most beautiful blonde just a foot away. The blonde was studiously avoiding eye contact with those around her, which only served to give Callie more time to check her out. Her piercing blue eyes matched the blue of her heels – which, Callie had to admit, were incredibly sexy. The Latina unconsciously smoothed out the airy fabric of her knee-length, deep red dress. Callie reached up and grabbed the same handrail that Arizona was holding, causing the blonde to look up.

When Arizona locked eyes with the dark-haired beauty in front of her, her breath caught in her throat. _Where did _she_ come from? _Arizona flashed her a small smile, appraising her body quickly with her eyes. Callie smiled back before looking away shyly. _Maybe this ride won't be so bad, _Arizona thought. _This is one stranger that can bump into me all she wants._

Callie was deep in her thoughts as well. _I wonder if she's gay. She's probably not gay; that's just my luck. I don't know though… there's something about her. Plus I'm pretty sure she just checked me out… _

Callie looked back up at Arizona's face to catch the blonde's eyes glued to her cleavage. When Arizona realized she'd been caught her face turned the slightest shade of pink before she looked away, not daring to meet the other woman's gaze. Despite her embarrassment, she felt a tingle shoot down her body at the memory of that perfect, perfect cleavage.

Arizona's blush had sealed the deal in Callie's mind, or at the very least emboldened her. She turned around so that she was facing away from Arizona, allowing the blonde to admire her from behind.

The train was moving faster now on its express route, causing small bumps every so often that jostled the passengers. The man in front of Callie kept clumsily stepping backwards, causing her to stand much closer to Arizona. Smirking to herself, Callie slowly allowed her back to press firmly into Arizona's front. She couldn't see the way the blonde's eyes slid shut at the contact, or her smile of surprise at the Latina's brazenness. She could, however, see Arizona's knuckles turn white against the handrail above them.

Being the lover of salsa dancing that Callie was, she knew exactly how to use her hips to her advantage. She slightly (so slightly that it might have merely been the pull of the train) swayed her hips, causing her ass to brush against the blonde's center. Arizona's mind was on overdrive. Callie's confidence (and mysteriousness) was a huge turn-on. (Speaking of turn-ons, that _ass…_).

Callie hoped more than anything that what she was doing wasn't too much. She was in the middle of tormenting herself with thoughts of the possibility that Arizona might be repulsed by her and- _oh, fuck_. Callie felt two firm nipples pressing into her on either side of her spine and nearly melted. This spurred her on even further, causing her to grind her ass back into Arizona with a very obvious intention.

The blonde felt herself getting wetter and wetter with every slow grind of the Latina's hips against her. She leaned her head forward so that she was only inches from the back of Callie's head. Breathing deeply, she inhaled the lavender scent of Callie's shampoo. The smell and feel of this woman sent Arizona's thoughts into overdrive. _She pictured the rest of the passengers disappearing; just her and this dark-haired woman spiraling forward on an empty train. She pictured gathering a handful of that long, dark hair into her fist and pulling her head back until that beautiful neck was exposed and she could see the throbbing pulse point. She pictured attaching her lips to that thrumming vein only after seeing Callie gasp and her lips turn up at the surprise of Arizona's forcefulness. _

Keeping these thoughts at bay, Arizona removed her hand from the railing, placing both hands on Callie's waist. The thought of what she was doing, touching this complete stranger in an oddly intimate way, in such a public place, was intoxicating. Arizona's fingers pressed into the soft flesh of Callie's hips, keeping the woman's body attached to hers. She ran her hands lightly down the sides of Callie's thighs, feeling the strong muscles beneath her fingers.

_Callie pictured the rest of the passengers disappearing; just her and this blonde-headed woman spiraling forward on an empty train. She pictured those beautiful pale hands continuing down her thighs until the blonde's fingers gathered up the hem of her dress. She imaged Arizona's hands returning up her thighs, only this time touching her bare skin, her dress bunching up around the blonde's wrists. Her head would drop back onto Arizona's shoulder as she felt nimble fingers finding her black panties and, in one swift movement, ripping them off. _

Arizona's hands travelled around to Callie's front, lightly moving across her stomach and up until her fingertips just touched the swell of Callie's breasts. She wanted so badly to continue. _She envisioned her hands jerking down the thin straps of Callie's dress until her breasts were exposed. She pictured looking down over Callie's shoulder to see two achingly hard, brown nipples heaving with a heavy breath. She felt her hands grabbing the flesh, cupping her breasts, kneading the nipples to the breaking point between pain and pleasure._

The skin of Callie's stomach was burning in the places where Arizona was resting her hands. She reached her free hand behind her to pull Arizona forward into her by the crease on the back of her thigh, just below her ass. Callie closed her eyes, _imaging Arizona gathering up the fabric of her dress into one hand, holding it at the waist so that her now panty-less body was exposed. Her legs would spread of their own accord as Arizona's other arm wrapped around her body, her hand quickly finding Callie's wet heat. She could virtually feel the warmth of Arizona's temple resting between her should blades as the blonde braced herself for each impending thrust of her fingers. She imagined her own hand holding on to the back of Arizona's neck as she struggled to stay upright as the blonde buried herself deep inside her._

Arizona leaned forward and nuzzled her nose into Callie's ear, saying nothing despite the torrent of words she longed to say. _She pictured pulling this earlobe into her mouth as her fingers frantically pumped in and out of the Latina. Her hot breath constantly pressed against Callie's ear, urging her to come. Asking her if she liked the way the blonde fucked her. Telling her how wet she was; how unbelievably fucking sexy she was; how tight she was. Demanding that she reach down and fondle her own clit between her fingers. _

_Callie pictured the way her hardened nub would feel beneath her digits as she furiously stroked it in time with Arizona's thrusts. She felt her orgasm building and building, gaining momentum; a crescendo of epic proportions. She imagined Arizona's fingers reaching up to rub against that spot that made her knees weak, and then imagined her knees actually going weak. Arizona forcefully kept her upright as she continued pounding into her, Callie's orgasm breaking like waves around the both of them. Their breath, staggered. The sweat on the back of Callie's neck. Arizona's lips on her shoulder blade. A wrinkled red dress. The smell of lavender. The best sex they'd never had._

The train was coming to halt, breaking the women out of their reverie. Arizona looked out the window, disoriented. Shit. Her stop. She slowly and regretfully pulled her hands away from Callie's body. Feeling the loss, Callie's head snapped up as well as she took in her surroundings. She turned around to find Arizona rifling through her purse. She pulled out a business card and a pen, and hastily scribbled on it. As the train's doors opened she looked up, meeting Callie's eyes. She smiled, passing the card over to her.

"That's my cell number," Arizona said. "Will you call?" she asked, hopefully.

"Arizona," Callie read aloud. She smiled. "Yes. I will call."

Arizona smiled, and then turned to make her way towards the door. She was just a step away from getting off the train when she turned abruptly.

"Wait! What's your name?" She asked.

Callie hesitated a moment before answering honestly. "Calliope".

"Calliope," Arizona repeated, loving the taste of the name in her mouth. She smiled a full, dimpled smile before stepping off the train, and then waited on the platform until the train was nothing more than a light in the distance.


	2. Chapter 2

Callie's POV

It's later that afternoon and I'm sitting in the Attendings' lounge, tapping the corner of Arizona's business card against the table in rapid succession. There's no way I can call right now – the same afternoon? No thank you, stalker. But god, it's tempting.

And it wouldn't be the most bizarre thing I did today.

In fact, I might as well just go ahead and douse myself with holy water right now. Rubbing up against complete strangers in a tram car? Am I losing my mind? And worse, the images I've been harboring all day would be enough to send every member of my Spanish Catholic family to an early grave.

But no time to think about mi abuela at a time like this.

Exacerbating these guilty thoughts is the fact that I haven't been able to get this off my chest all day. It isn't that Mark hasn't been around. But how do you explain, out loud, that you just mind-fucked a perfect stranger, whose ass you (coincidentally) also had a handful of and whose crotch was glued to your backside for the better part of 15 minutes?

How you explain this is, you don't.

Now the crease of the business card is starting to round itself off from this constant tapping, and even the subtle defacing of her card is enough to give me agita. And just when I begin to contemplate how odd it is that my pager hasn't gone off once in the last hour, I realize that it's only been 5 minutes since I last checked and time is just barely drudging forward.

Fuck it.

I'm just gonna call. If this were a normal situation, I might wait the requisite two plus days before calling but, alas, this is not a normal situation. I'm not sure what the rules are surrounding dry humping but it seems that the act itself would give me a one-up on the communication issue.

But just to be safe, maybe I'll start with a text. Seems a bit more subtle – subtlety being tactic I haven't tried in a while.

_Hey Stranger – It's Callie. Is it way too inappropriately early to call? In the event that the answer is yes, I'm texting instead._

Send.

Huge exhale, stretch my neck a bit, crack my knuckles. And now I'll just put this phone right in my pocket and get on with my job, because I am a goddamn professional.

(Beep Beep)

Christ, that was fast. In my haste my phone bobbles out of my hands and after a few near catches, flies to the floor. So now I'm frantically picking up the pieces of my cell, putting the battery back in – wait, that's backwards – and now powering back up….

One new text message.

My heart has developed an arrhythmia within the last few minutes and I consider briefly whether developing a chronic condition over a woman I've barely met and almost fucked is really worth it.

_Calliope… not early enough! __ How about a real phone conversation after you get off work? _

Exclamation point, smiley face? Well, that's a doozy. Okay. Yeah. I could handle a real phone conversation.

_My shift isn't over until 9pm… Does that work for you? _

_Hmm, long hours! Me too. I'll be off at 8:30. How about I call you at 9:15?_

"Torres, there you are!" Mark. Fuck.

"Hey, yeah, what? Nothing."

"Whoa, slow down killer. You alright?"

"Yeah, of course I'm… Sure. Yeah, way." Yeah, way? This chick is bad for me already.

"Alright… Well, car accident patient in the pit needs a consult."

"Yep. Coming."

But just for good measure I take the extra minute to text Arizona back and set this scheduled conversation in stone.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey guys… so I know they both seem awkward as hell at this point but I really wanted to capture that nervy feeling you get in the beginning – because I think that happens to the best of us. I have no idea really how this story is going to unfold but I'm trying. Short chapter, so sorry!

Arizona's POV

The wait between 9:00 and 9:15 was nerve-wracking enough to make me want to light a cigarette. Only a few more minutes to go and I can call – although I should be at least two minutes fashionably late. Or else it seems like I have no life. Unless it seems like I can't keep an appointment… Shit.

I realize I've been peeling the label off my beer bottle for god knows how long, the little shredded pieces making a mess of my carpet. I've heard that beer label peeling is a sign of sexual frustration, and maybe that's true. Except that I pretty much had sex in a public train this morning.

But let's not get out of hand. I mean, I can't be the only person this has ever happened to. It's not like I broke the mold on stranger flirting. In fact, I've heard of this exact same thing happening before. On HBO. After hours.

Ugh.

I _am _a pediatric surgeon, which I think is something to keep in mind before I let my hormones get the best of me.

Okay, it's time. It's time. It's 9:15. When it turns 9:16 exactly I'll call. I'll have her number all ready, and all I'll have to do is hit send.

Shit, 9:16! 9:16! I fumble to hit send.

I hold my breath while it rings on the line. Except that now I can't breathe.

"Hello?" she says timidly. Timid? Well that's certainly a change from this morning.

"Hi!" I say in a rush of breath that is 50% nerves and 50% the result of oxygen deprivation.

"Hi," she said again, chuckling. A moment of silence. Is this awkward silence or comfortable silence?

She speaks:

"New York Pres, huh Dr. Robbins? That's pretty impressive."

"Ah, my business card. Well thank you. And what about you, Calliope…"

"Torres. I work at Mt. Sinai actually. I'm an orthopedic surgeon."

"Wow," I laughed. "What a small world. Of all the people to sidle up to on a crowded subway, and we share the same profession."

"Yeah… About that…"

"What, are you about to "punk" me or something?" I asked warily. "Cause if I was on candid camera I am gonna be _pissed._"

"Nooo," she laughed. "Nothing like that, I just… I wanted to apologize. I've never done anything like that before. I feel a little mortified actually."

"Please don't." And then, quietly, "I haven't felt that alive in a long time."

Callie was the one who spoke next.

"I'd really love to see you again."

And that was how our first real date was born into existence.


	4. Chapter 4

Callie's POV

Fast forward to four days later. I'm a block away from the restaurant where Arizona and I are meeting. Some new fusion restaurant that she picked out.

The food is the last thing on my mind.

I feel good. Sexy, even. I'm freshly-shaven, wearing just a hint of perfume, a new dress, and really sexy underwear.

Not that I'm planning on anything happening. More to boost my confidence than anything else. And maybe a little bit of the first.

As I reach the door, I hike my purse up higher on my shoulder, take a deep breath, and head inside. Wow, this place is ritzier than I thought.

What is the etiquette for this type of thing? Do I get a table? Do I wait for her outside? Do I wait for her _inside_? For all the dating I've done, I feel like an absolute amateur.

"Are you Calliope?" the hostess asks, looking at me expectantly.

"Yes, that's me."

"Dr. Robbins asked me to keep an eye out for you. Right this way."

See, now _that_ was planning ahead on her part. Get here early. Have a plan. She's like a professional dater or something. I realize I need to up my game.

The hostess leads me across the restaurant, taking me to a secluded section of tables. Arizona is the first thing I see.

She is absolutely breathtaking. She is smiling at me and I am literally devoid of breath, nervous system paralyzed, and I have to teach myself to breathe again. Born again. Like a newborn.

(Wait. Not at all a newborn.)

She stands to greet me, because chivalry is not dead and I will come to know that she believes this, too. We stand for a second, neither saying anything, just smiling smiling smiling away like it's class picture day and this one's going in the yearbook. The difference being that this isn't a fake smile or one that you have to talk me into. This is the brightest smile I own.

This is the first time I've seen Arizona since my little stunt on the subway, and she's even more beautiful than I remember. We've been trading text messages for the last few days and even spoke for an hour last night under the ruse of "hammering out those details" for tonight's dinner. Clearly, I find her personality to be completely charming. But despite feeling an emotional connection to her based on the last few days, I can't help but wanting to gratuitously fuck her, immediately.

Dinner is both comfortable and exciting; learning about her, telling her about me, sharing more smiles than I can count (and if I see those dimples one more time my body may just melt into a puddle of liquid sex).

And I am flirting with her, and god, she is flirting with me.

Not to mention that she keeps biting on that pouty lower lip, and while I can't say with certainly that this isn't just a habit of hers I'm inclined to believe that she knows exactly what she's doing. And that it's working.

"It seems a little surreal to see you again," I admit.

"Why's that?" she says, carelessly running her finger around the lip of her wine glass.

"I don't know. I kind of… feel like I dreamed you."

"Well, Calliope, you are not the first woman to say that to me," she says coyly, and I laugh.

"Is that so?" I ask, raising my eyebrows. "Well in that case, I take it back."

"Nope, you said it. You can't take it back."

She's leaning closer to me now, and somehow I think that her chair has inched nearer to me over the course of this dinner.

Later, after we've paid the check but before we make a move to leave, she says:

"Can I be obscenely honest for a second?"

"Yes, please," I say, riveted. She's leaning on her elbow, chin in palm.

"I really want to take you home with me." And I believe her. She's looking at me like she might at any moment devour me. "There's something about you, Calliope… something that makes me want to lose control."

(I couldn't agree more. My reactions to Arizona thus far have been so completely visceral that I almost feel like a different person).

"I want to court you, I really do. Go one some more dates. Take things slow. But you're making it so fucking hard." Her voice is low and husky and there are thousands of butterflies fluttering against ribs 1 through 12 and a bit at the sternum.

"How am I making it hard? I'm not even doing anything."

"Yes you are. God, yes you are." Her exhale is ragged. You bright blue eyes are locked on mine. "You're doing something with that dress, and with those legs, and with the way you keep licking your lips…"

"Well, you already know how irresistible I find you. So much so that I would make a move on you in a crowded subway before I even knew your name," I smiled coyly.

"Yes, that was a pretty bold move, Dr. Torres. You're braver than I, that's for sure."

"I'm not, though. But seeing you made me forget every fucking thing I ever learned about decorum."

"So I think we have the sexual chemistry covered, then?" she asked playfully.

I leaned in so that my lips were just millimeters from her ear. "If you're finding it so hard to stay in control, maybe you should just let go. Show me what out of control looks like."

"I don't want to scare you away," she says, and I can tell that she is genuinely worried that I might be put off by the nature of what she has in mind.

To this, I can only say:

"Don't you worry. I give it just as good as I get it."

I've hooked her now, and it seems that we are, in fact, going to do this thing. We share our first kiss in the backseat of a taxi on the way to my apartment (which is closer to the restaurant than hers).

It is a first kiss to _end _all first kisses – her lips so much fucking softer than I could have imagined and her tongue well-versed in the art of mouth-on-mouth stimulation. We are teeth and lips and tongues; moaning and hissing; hair-pulling and finger nails digging little half-moons into the skin of the other.

When we get to the apartment Christina is there, which is unfortunate (for her) because nothing is keeping Arizona and I away from each other tonight.

And while I typically value the sensitivity and sensuality of a first time, tonight we are stripping our first time to its bare bones.

That is, my name, being screamed repeatedly until eventually we hear the front door slam signifying Christina's departure.

That is, the bright pink scratch marks that extend from just below Arizona's shoulder blade down to the middle of her back.

That is, saying things to Arizona that might make me cringe in the morning with their vulgarity.

That is, the pure animalistic and uninhibited way in which she fucked me, relentlessly, until I had to bite down on my pillow to stifle my grunting.

By the end (and the end doesn't come for hours), we are both panting and sweating, our bodies slick and slippery.

We are sitting up against the headboard, trying to catch our breaths.

"Fuck," I say, wiping the matted hair away from my forehead.

"Yeah," she says, dreamily and entirely spent.

"I've never… I mean it's _never_, been like that before."

"I could get addicted to that."

And for a while, we do get addicted to it.


	5. Chapter 5

Callie's POV

The next day at work I have that overall calm and anesthetized feeling you might associate with smoking pot. My limbs feel a bit like they are not connected to my own body and my brain cells are happily tingling at the memory of last night.

The day passes by in a blur, and I can only hope that I practiced medicine to the best of my ability. As I stand at my locker trying to collect my things, Christina walks up beside me. It is the first time I have seen her since last night.

"Oh. My. God. You whore," she says to me, hands on hips, and I know she's waiting for an explanation (albeit one with absolutely no details).

"I'm sorry," I say sheepishly. "I am, Christina. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." I am typically more respectful to my roommate than my most recent behavior exhibited.

"Um, the _devil, _is what came over you, is what it sounded like."

"I know, I _know_," I say, trying to cool my blushing forehead with my hand. "It was really inconsiderate and completely unlike me. But in my defense, it was like… an out of body experience."

"No, you were definitely _in _your body. I could hear it hitting the wall." (Yes, there was quite a bit of bruising this morning).

"Are you going to make this as embarrassing for me as possible?"

"Yes. A little warning next time, might be nice?"

"I _promise_," I say, feeling genuinely sorry that I had exiled her from her own home last night.

We hadn't planned another date yet, but two days later Arizona calls me and asks me to come over. She has dinner plans at 6 and can we squeeze something in before then?

I ask for her address.

Arizona's POV

Within twenty minutes, Callie is knocking on my door. As soon as I swing the door open, I am on her. There is a very addictive quality to this woman – so much so that I feel as though we are opposing poles of a magnet, helplessly drawn together.

I remove her jacket without breaking the kiss, my own shirt following it to the floor. The kissing and the insistent way she is sucking my bottom lip into her mouth is making me wet faster than I thought possible.

I don't know what we're doing. I don't know what this is. But I can't stop it.

My hands make quick work of the button on her jeans, ripping them down over her sides. I push her into a sitting position on the couch so that I can take them all the way off. With that finished, I hastily tug on the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She is breathing heavily and I realize that I am, too.

I lean in and kiss her stomach, sucking the skin roughly and biting down. I know that we are standing on the edge of what is pleasure and what is pain, and the threat of falling is exhilarating to me. It is exhilarating to both of us.

As I rip the cups down on her bra, she grabs the back of my neck and forces me to her breast. I lick and suck hungrily on her nipples as though I am only being given a small window to do so and need to get my fill. Her head is thrown back on my couch and I can smell her arousal from my position, kneeling on the floor between her legs.

Without taking my lips away from her nipple, my fingers find the sides of her panties and pull them off of her body. My hands smooth back up her thighs, grabbing her hips (which will forever be the sexiest part of her to me). Thinking back to her performance on the train, I fail to realize that Calliope has taken my hand. In fact, I don't at all realize until I feel the warmth of her mouth around my first two fingers.

I look up at her and my eyes immediately glaze over at what she's doing to me. She is sliding my fingers into her mouth, so deep, so achingly fucking slowly. Her tongue is so wet and soft and she's fucking her mouth with my hand, and I know exactly what she wants me to be fucking instead.

Nobody has ever turned me on the way that Calliope does. That much is certain.

Returning my attention to her body, I start kissing my way down her stomach and it is clear where I am headed. When I reach the top of her trimmed thatch of pubic hair, she pushes me away from her. The confusion is clearly written on my face.

"I didn't say you could have my pussy yet," she says.

I smile coyly, shaking my head, knowing that this woman will be the death of me. She is toying with me, because she knows she can. Because she knows that I am helpless to do anything but please her body once she is near me. Our first date was a clear indication of that.

"Keep your eyes on me," she commanded.

As if my eyes would be anywhere else.

I watch as her hands find her breasts, her fingers tugging on her tight, straining nipples. She moans in self-gratification. She circles her perfect brown nipples before pinching them, pulling on them.

I dig my nails into the side of her thighs. My arousal was palpable.

She let her hands travel further downward, and using two fingers she spread her lips apart. Her clit was hard and glistening. My breath was labored and shallow. My eyes closed involuntarily.

"Open your eyes," she ordered. "I told you to watch me." She lifted one eyebrow at me, questioning my willingness to participate.

I opened my eyes quickly and kept them fixed on Calliope's open pussy. Restraining myself was becoming almost impossible.

With her free hand, Callie ran a single finger over the length of her clit, circling the hood softly. She repeated this until her finger was coated with her wetness.

"Open your mouth".

I parted my lips in anticipation, as Calliope brought her finger closer and plunged it deep into my mouth. Struck by the pure perfection of her taste, I sucked hungrily, devouring her digit. Before I knew it she had withdrawn from my mouth, and I was salivating, wanting it again.

Callie returned her hand to her sex, rubbing her clit in slow circles. I inched closer to her, until my face was just inches from pussy.

Callie's POV

Maybe it was the fact that she was on her knees before me, or maybe it was the way she was looking up at me, pleadingly, her eyelids heavy with arousal. So when she said:

"Let me help you," so fucking sweetly, like I was some sort of prize, I knew I had to give up the act of playing hard to get.

As soon as I had nodded my assent, her mouth was on, ravenously. Her lips wrapped themselves around my clit as I felt her tongue smooth over me again and again. She was alarmingly good at this.

I could feel her sucking me into her mouth with just the right amount of pressure, her hands beneath my ass pulling me into her. My hips took on a life of their own as she licked down the length of my slit and back. I held her to me by the hair because I had learned from our last experience that this turned her on.

I felt an orgasm approaching perilously quickly, and tried desperately to hold off. I did not want this to end yet. God, it was _so good… _

"Why are you hanging on, baby?" she said, pulling her lips away for just a second. The way she said baby and the sight of her wet mouth was pushing me over the edge. "Just let go," she said. "I need you to come in my mouth."

"I don't… want it to be over… so soon," I managed to get out, every muscle in my body tensed.

"Calliope, when you come, I'm just gonna start all over again," she said, keeping her eyes locked on mine as my body shook and spasmed, releasing in her mouth like she asked.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter kind of requires you to forget what you know about the characters, and probably hate them both a little bit. So far I've just really wanted to focus on this intense sexual connection that they have that kind of makes them do crazy things.

Callie's POV

I'm sitting on the closed toilet lid an hour later as Arizona takes a shower to get ready for her dinner plans. I'm exhausted from the sex, but completely sated.

She's telling me about her dinner tonight with potential donors to the hospital when her cell phone beeps from the other room.

"That's a text message. Can you read that to me? Maybe it's the donors calling to cancel and you and I can pick up where we left off," she says laughing. I grab her phone from the bedroom and walk back into the bathroom, opening the text message. Aloud, I read:

_"Hey! Haven't seen you in a while… I'm still up for that second date if you are. Xo, Theresa"_

Arizona stands quietly for a moment before turning the water off. She grabs the towel from over the rack and opens the shower door, getting out.

"That's…" she starts. "I didn't sleep with her."

Me, I'm still a little flabbergasted by the turn this evening has seemingly taken. It's not every day that you accidentally intercept a text message from one of your lovers' other lovers.

"No, hey," I rush in. "It'd be okay if you did. I mean, we're…" I shrug. What are we? "We're dating. Right? Dating… Whoever."

She eyes me warily, as if this might be a trap.

"But I would never intentionally put it in your face like this. It's totally bad form," she says.

"No, look, it's okay. I get it," I say. "We're doctors, we know how difficult it is to have long-term relationships. I'm not even… looking for that."

What am I saying? And why can't I stop?

"Well, that's a relief," she smiles. "That we're on the same page. Because I really like seeing you. And I'd like to keep seeing you."

"I'd like to keep seeing you, too. We'll just keep it… light and easy," I say.

"Perfect," she agrees. And I don't even really know what I'm signing up for.

The next day at work Mark corners me in a supply closet.

"Heard about your hot blonde peds surgeon," he says, smacking me on the back.

"What? How?"

"Yang."

"Cristina didn't know she was a peds surgeon."

"Yes, but _apparently _she overheard the name Arizona quite a bit the other night. So I googled her. Turns out she's the only Arizona in New York."

"That's creepy."

"True," he shrugs. "The real question is, why haven't I heard it from you?"

"Ugh, Mark. I don't know. It's not a big deal. We're just… kind of casually dating."

"And what does that mean for two chicks? That you actually wait a few months before moving in together?"

"Ha ha," I deadpanned. "No. I don't know. We're just dating. Sleeping together."

"Nice. Well, that's pretty evolved of you, Torres. You're a real man, now."

"Gee thanks."

I'm on-call that evening, and as I head to a room to catch some sleep I find Mark already in one of the beds.

"You staying here, too?" I ask.

"Just waiting for you," he says, moving over so that I can climb in bed. "Real quick?" he says, leaning over me on his elbow.

"_Real_ quick," I say, "I'm exhausted."

Mark smirks and brings his lips to mine. My relationship with Mark has never been very conventional. He has recently become my go-to guy for sex again, despite me dating exclusively women. And I absolutely realize how wrong this is on so many levels, but it generally works for me. And it always works for him.

Except that we haven't had sex since I met Arizona.

And now his stubble feels just a little too rough on my chin. His hand is running down my body and I am all too aware of its size, so different from that of a woman's. From Arizona's.

I am only distantly conscious of the fact that he is untying my scrub pants, and that his hand has made its way into my panties. He is rubbing, trying to get a reaction from me, but none is forthcoming.

"Cal, you okay?" he whispers. He isn't used to feeling me dry and unresponsive.

I look at him pityingly. "I'm sorry," I say, removing his hand from my pants. "I guess I'm just not into it today."

I can tell he is disappointed, feel his disappointment pressing against my thigh. But he smiles anyway and says, "That's okay." He kisses me on the forehead before heading out for the night.

Arizona's POV

It is nearly a week later when I see Callie again, the longest I have gone without seeing her since we first met. I can hardly think of anything but her, and for every day that we realize that our schedules clash it gets worse. Finally, we are able to set a date in stone.

She suggests a coffeehouse near my apartment. When she arrives, I help her out of her jacket, place a chaste kiss on her lips, and ask her how she knows my area so well.

"Not many people now about this coffee shop."

"My good friend Mark lives near here actually," she says.

"So _that's _why you were on my train that morning."

"Yeah. Call it kismet, I guess," she says, laughing. God she has such a beautiful laugh.

In that moment I want nothing more than to keep her laughing. And for this I have to really break out the good stuff. My first kiss story, with my female next door neighbor at the ripe old age of 9. The time in high school when I got too drunk to drive, so my friends and I pushed my car the whole way home so that I wouldn't miss curfew (and incur the wrath of my military father). Some of my more minor embarrassments as a medical student.

And she did laugh. And her laugh was so infectious. And I was a bit smitten.

We decide to try a date that doesn't involve sex. But then she takes a sip of her cappuccino and some of the froth sticks to her top lip. And as I wipe it away with my thumb our eyes lock and the rest, as they say, is history.

(We lock ourselves into the single-patron bathroom and she grips the sink tightly as I take her, hard and fast, from behind. This is her favorite way to be taken).


	7. Chapter 7

Callie's POV

The next time I am able to spend time with Arizona, I invite her over for dinner. It's been a few days since our excursion at the coffeehouse, and while we haven't seen each other since, we've been finding ways to talk throughout the day. Each time that my phone beeps I find myself all at once a bundle of nerves and yet unmistakably gleeful.

As I let her in, I am taken aback by her beauty. This is a persistent sensation; one that seems to never get old. She is wearing tight denim jeans and a loose fitting blouse, and her hair is falling in delicate ringlets around her shoulders. She is beaming at me, and that familiar fire within me is ignited.

"It smells delicious, Calliope," she says, as I hang her jacket on the rack. She places a lingering kiss on my lips before we both head into the kitchen. I stand at the stove, stirring my sauce.

I feel her approaching me from behind, wrapping her arms delicately around my stomach, kissing the top of my shoulder.

"I didn't know you were such a good cook," she says, her mouth behind my ear.

"You still don't," I chuckled. "You haven't tried anything yet."

"I can just tell," she said, breathing in the scent of my hair. "Lavender," she whispered. "I love the way your hair always smells like lavender, since that first day on the train."

I turned around in her arms and kissed her softly. "I'm glad you like it."

It turns out that Arizona did find me to be a good cook after all. We ate slowly, almost lazily, sipping our wine and trading stories. Conversations with Arizona were so entirely effortless. After we had cleaned up, I lit some candles around the living room and refilled our wine glasses.

We sat on the couch as I told her about my family: my overprotective father, our heavy Catholic beliefs, even our money. But when we began to talk about her family, Arizona became noticeably subdued.

"Hey," I said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," she says, and pauses. "It's just… I don't really talk about it a lot."

"You don't have to talk about anything you don't want to," I reassure her, taking her hand.

"The thing is, I _want _to tell you. And that scares me." Her chin is quivering and my heart breaks a little. She is avoiding my gaze, trying to reign in her emotions. After a moment of silence, she looks down at our intertwined fingers and sighs heavily.

"Six years ago my brother was killed in Iraq." As soon as she says this her eyes start to tear up. "The plan was always for him to be in military. My grandfather was in the military, my father, two of my uncles… I mean this was the life that was expected of him. But he never complained. He was an honorable man and he wanted to serve his country. And then he was killed," she says, tears streaming down her face now. Her breathing is jagged and I can tell that it's difficult for her to get this out. I am stroking my hand up and down her back but I know that this is not enough.

"When they unloaded his casket off the plane, I just wanted to die. I wanted to die, too. I couldn't stand the thought of getting a-a- a pocket square of a flag in return for my brother's _life_. After his funeral, I moved here, to New York. I just wanted to start a new life. And I haven't talked about him since, not even with my parents. But I miss him so much," she sobbed, leaning her face into the crook of my neck. "And I feel so guilty," she choked, "for moving on."

I hug her tightly to me, stroking her hair, trying to comfort her in some small way. I feel the dampness of her tears on my shirt and the thought of this woman crying is enough to break me.

"Hey… Shh, it's okay. Arizona, it's okay. What other choice did you have but to move on? It's the only way." I am trying to reason with her, but my words are empty in the face of such overwhelming loss. She continues to sob into me.

"I've got you. Cry. Just let it out," I tell her, kissing her hair, her head. I tilt her chin up towards me so that I can see her. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and I use both hands to wipe them away. I kiss her forehead, I kiss her closed eyelids. When she opens her eyes she sees that I am crying, too.

"Why are you crying, Calliope?" she says, using her thumb to dry my own tears.

"I hate to see you this upset. I hate that you had to go through this. I'm so sorry," I tell her, my hands on either side of her face. "I'm so sorry."

I lean forward and gently brush her lips with mine. This kiss is completely unhurried and unlike any other kiss we've shared before. Both our faces stained with tears, I need this kiss to convey so much more than it ever has. She holds me tightly to her as we embrace, as though she is afraid of what letting go of me means. I pull away from the kiss to look at her, and for a moment we stare into each other's eyes, saying nothing.

"I want to make love to you," I finally whisper.

She pulls back and studies my face for a moment before nodding her assent.

Making love was unchartered territory between the two of us. Thus far, our relationship had been characterized by untamed sexual chemistry and wild desire: In other words, sex. Fucking is probably a better summation.

But in this moment, the tide is shifting, ever so slightly, to reveal what has perhaps been there all along. Real, genuine, _feelings_. Trust. Compassion for the other. Dare I say that other word?

Arizona's POV

She slowly leads me into her bedroom and I'm struck with this absolutely foreign sensation: my heart feels suddenly untethered; ethereal. Like one of those helium parade balloons, strings snipped, floating away into the sky.

We stand in front of her bed and she leans in to kiss me again, our lips just barely touching. Almost pantomiming the act of kissing. Her mouth is Braille and I am reading her cover to cover.

Her cheeks are damp and red from crying and I kiss them softly. Her eyes close at the feel of my lips kissing her cheeks so gingerly, and she is slightly blushing. I'm struck by the fact that I've never made her blush before. That in all of our fucking I had never taken the time to gently kiss her face like this.

When she opens her eyes I am staring at her, waiting for her to see me again, so that I can tell her with absolute certainty that I find her to be breathtakingly beautiful. And I do.

She sits me down on the edge of the bed and stands before me, slowly pulling her shirt up over her head. I am looking up at her, all of a sudden overwhelmed by the magnitude of what I'm feeling, and my eyes begin to water again. She finds the hem of my shirt and gently removes it from my body before taking my face in her hands and kissing me.

I place my hands on her hips and lean my forehead against her stomach, taking in the scent of her skin. She is running her fingers through my hair, allowing me to seek refuge against her body. I look up at her, eyes glistening, and she says (quite simply), "I adore you."

Later, after we are both undressed, she lays her body fully onto mine. The weight of her on top of me is so pricelessly perfect: the anchor that is keeping my floating heart grounded. She has spent the last twenty minutes exploring every inch of my skin – kissing my spine with devoted precision; bringing goose bumps to my flesh by lightly dragging her fingernails over my arms, legs, stomach.

Turning us over so that I am on top, I kiss her underneath her chin and wonder if anyone has ever thought to kiss her there before. I hope that I am the first.

Our lips meet again, and I begin moving my body just the slightest bit on top of her. Our breasts are pressed so tightly together and yet I can feel her nipples rubbing mine from beneath me. My eyes are glued to hers, and hers to mine, as we both try to process what's happening between us (because in this moment we are utterly honest with ourselves).

Calliope wraps her arms around my back and rolls us over again, tenderly grinding her pelvis down onto mine. She begins stroking my pussy with her own, and I am filled with the purest of pleasure.

"I want us to come like this," she whispers, bracing herself on her elbows. "Is this okay?"

"God, Calliope… Yes…"

There is no telling where she ends and I begin. I feel the slickness between our legs; the heat that we've created together.

I wrap my legs around her, trapping her against me. I can't bear the thought of even an inch between us now. I am hugging her to me with my arms, my cheek pressed against hers, her hitched breathing in my ear.

"Stay close to me," I plead, desperately.

"I'm right here, baby," she says, wrapping her arms underneath my shoulders to hold me tighter.

Her hips are moving languidly against me, our bodies one continuous wave of motion. She is me and I am her and we are about to take that leap, together.

We are sweating now, her body glistening above me. I hold the back of neck, keeping her forehead pressed to mine as I feel the stirrings of my orgasm within me.

"Calliope… I'm so close."

Her hips are thrusting forward more purposefully now, bringing me there. As I feel myself exploding, I tighten my legs around her waist as every muscle in my body tenses. My back arches off the bed and her body, instinctively, follows. My mouth is frozen open with no sound. As the peak of my orgasm hits I let my breath rush out of me in a stream of unfettered satisfaction.

And although I am sensitive I grip her tightly as her body jerks above me, her face the picture of an exquisiteness I've never known. She brokenly whispers my name as she thrusts with a finality that tells me she's come.

And as her body relaxes onto mine, I know that something has just happened that's beyond our control. My chest is filling, nearly bursting, with a feeling I dare not say.


	8. Chapter 8

Callie's POV

The next morning, I bring Arizona coffee in bed and we spend the morning talking and laughing, our legs tangled beneath the sheets.

And she is the same enchanting woman that she was yesterday, and the day before – Except that now things are different somehow. I know that it is not her that is changing, but rather my perception of her. That somewhere along the way I have come to view her as simultaneously flawless and flawed; that is, knowing her faults yet finding her perfect.

And I think that this is quite the oxymoron. Because only rarely do you allow yourself to be so completely irrational. There is something entirely liberating about giving yourself over to this feeling, knowing full well that you're only really half-sane around this person and being totally on board with that.

So as we kiss goodbye, heading our separate ways to work, I know that things between us have changed. Because now that she's imperfectly perfect to me, I know that there can never be anyone else.

Arizona's POV

I have been absolutely walking on air the last two days, the love-making with Calliope giving me a high that I have yet to come down from. And this constant smiling is a bit of a problem – it's made delivering a prognosis difficult in a completely new and unchartered way.

So, yes, I am aware that my feelings for Callie are interfering a bit with my day-to-day life. But isn't that point? And shouldn't I get to enjoy that feeling of being utterly distracted for as long as it lasts?

I know that I'm treading in dangerous waters but it feels disarmingly safe to me, and I know that things between us have changed. Because now that she's the one and only thing on my mind, I know there can never be anyone else.

Later that night, I call Calliope to find out what her plans are. It's loud where she is, and she excuses herself to step outside.

"Hey, baby. Sorry about that," she says. "A few people from work just stopped to have a drink. Why don't you come meet us? You can meet some of my friends, have a drink, and then take me home?" I can practically _hear_ her smile.

I agree to meet her, quickly hailing a cab. And while this is a completely natural social situation, I can't help but feel that this night is bigger than that. I'm meeting her friends. Which means that she _wants _me to meet her friends. Colleagues, no less, which means that she _trusts _me to meet her friends.

I pay the cabbie as I get to the bar, a charming little dive near Mt. Sinai. And despite feeling nervous, her friends instantly put me at ease. Sure, they're a little odd, but in a completely irresistible way. Fortunately, we take to each other fairly quickly.

Many of them are quite drunk by the time I arrive; even Callie has a bit of a buzz. My game plan for the night is to stay relatively sober-minded, especially if I want to make a good impression. While her colleagues might enjoy watching me dancing on the bar, that isn't exactly the type of first impression I want to make.

So I am completely sober as the evening winds down and Mark sidles up next to me at our table. Callie is only half paying attention to our conversation; Cristina is trying to teach her a trick she learned in her short stint as a bartender.

"I'd ask you what your intentions are with my best friend, but I'm too drunk," Mark says, his eyes droopy. He has this drunken smile plastered to his face that hasn't faltered once in the last hour.

"Plus Callie already gave me the low-down," he mumbles, happily.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You know, about you guys doing the casual dating/fucking thing," he says, raising his glass. "Cheers to that." Except we don't clink glasses, and he doesn't notice.

Callie keeps looking over while trying to appear as though she is listening to Cristina, but I can tell she is only barely picking up the thread of this conversation.

"Well that's not _exactly—"_

"No, no," he cuts me off. "I think it's great. Callie's pretty lousy at relationships anyway."

"Hey!" she yells from across the table, a slight pout forming. Mark waves her off.

"Well, you are," he says. "Anyway," he turns back to me. "Where was I?"

"Pretty lousy at relationships…"

"Oh, right. So that's why I think the casual thing is a great idea. She and I have a casual thing, ourselves."

My eyebrows furrow, and I hope that what he means is the exact opposite of what he's saying.

"Now before you get upset," he slurs, "let me clarify. We don't have a casual _dating_ thing. Just the fucking."

I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Sure, we'd discussed dating other people but with the way I felt about her now, that had changed. For me, at least.

"What's going on over here?" Callie asks, her conversation with Cristina over.

"We were just talking about the arrangement that you and Mark have, in which you 'casually fuck'," I say. I get the feeling that she is a bit too tipsy to understand the gravity of this situation. Either that or, for her, this situation isn't grave at all. Which is much worse.

"I… wasn't aware that you slept with men."

"Oh, I don't. Just Mark. And that's more of a convenience thing."

"No strings. It just works," Mark adds.

I'm silent for a moment before Callie hurriedly adds: "But that hasn't happened for a few weeks," she counters.

I know this is supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn't. How I can I judge her for having that sort of relationship with someone when that's the type of relationship _we_ originally had?

Of course, I am most hurt by my assumption that things between us had taken a turn the other night. I feel foolish; embarrassed, for thinking the feeling was mutual.

Putting on a brave face I allow the conversation to veer away to something else. After about 20 more minutes, I smile and excuse myself for the night.

Callie walks me out.

"Hey," she says softly, grabbing my arm. "I thought you were supposed to be taking me home?"

"I'm sorry, Calliope. Not tonight. I'm kind of tired," I lie. It is the first time that I've turned her down.

"Oh. Okay." She looks hurt and my first instinct is to take back what I've just said. My pride, however, has other ideas.

I lean in and kiss her cheek.

"Goodnight Calliope."

"Night," she says, to my now retreating form.


	9. Chapter 9

Callie's POV

It's the day after the bar incident, and I am feeling bad about everything that happened last night. I feel a little bit hazy on the logistics of _why_ Arizona was upset, but I know that she was; and I know that it had something to do with Mark and me.

In truth, I hadn't been able to bring myself to be intimate with Mark since even before the night Arizona broke down crying. I need to tell Arizona that on my end, it's only her.

So I decide to bring her lunch. I head over to her hospital and navigate my way to the Peds ward. I see her standing near the nurses' station, her back to me, and I take a moment to admire her in her surroundings.

(She looks outrageously hot in her scrubs, by the way).

I wait for her to notice me as she engages in conversation with one of the peds nurses. I am just close enough to hear her voice, but not close enough (apparently) to be detected.

And I don't want to be upset about what happens next, I really don't. The last thing on earth I want is to become the jealous type. And that's precisely why I wish I hadn't overheard Arizona flirting with the peds nurse, being asked out by the peds nurse. Saying yes to the peds nurse.

How could I help feeling crushed? Did I even have the right? Sure, we had decided that we weren't exclusive, but hadn't that changed?

After the nurse had resumed her duties (didn't she have a _job_ to do?) it was another moment before Arizona turned around to see me.

"Calliope!" she said, her face the picture of surprise. But not the kind of surprise like I had just caught her doing something wrong; the kind that said she was glad to see me. (Girls were always so fucking confusing).

"What are you doing here?" she asks, hugging me hello. I am stiff and unyielding and as she pulls away I lift the paper takeout bag into her view.

"Just wanted to drop off some lunch," I say. But now I want to take this lunch, find a private room to lock myself in, and cry as I binge eat the whole bag. Alas, pride is too stubborn a bitch.

At first, she looks pleased, until eventually she cocks her head to the side and studies my face.

"Hey," she said, touching my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, I'm _mad _at you," I blurt out, annoyed that it took her a full 1.5 minutes to catch on, and that the reason for this detachment was probably her date.

"You're mad at _me_?" she asked, taken aback. "What did I do?"

"Oh Julie, what strong hands you have!" I mocked in a singsong voice, contorting something I'd heard earlier.

"Hah!" Arizona smirked in disbelief, her eyebrows raised. "Okay Calliope," she says, as though she is agreeing with a child who has just said something absurd but will not stand to be corrected.

"Okay what? You know it's true." And I realize now that perhaps I do sound a bit childish.

"What are you, spying on me?" Arizona retorted.

"If you did your damn job instead of hitting on your nurses, than I'd have no reason to spy on you, would I?" I meant this to hurt her, and it did. And now I hate myself a little bit.

Arizona looked as though she had been slapped. She turned and walked away, and I immediately felt remorseful. She stalked off towards her office, her heels clicking against the tile floor. I slipped into the room behind her before she could close the door. She turns to face me as I shut the door behind us.

"Arizona…" I start.

"Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and _policing_ me on my job performance? You have no idea what kind of doctor I am."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. That was below the belt and I didn't mean it. I don't even know why I said it. Well… I said it because I overhead you talking to that nurse."

"And? Are you jealous?" Arizona asked seriously, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her white lab coat.

"Of course I'm jealous! But more than that, I'm hurt. What about _us_?" I ask quietly.

"Calliope, you and I both decided that we would date other people. And since that conversation, we haven't talked about being exclusive at all."

"I didn't really think we had to!" I say, flabbergasted.

"Oh please! Up until a few weeks ago you were still sleeping with Mark!"

"Yeah, and then I _stopped. _Whoever I was when we met, whatever I was doing… I'm not now." I paused, and for a minute we looked at each other in silence. She had a valid point; I did actually understand why she would be upset about Mark. But I was absolutely committed to her, right here and now.

"Are you really going out with her?" I asked.

"Yes, Calliope, I am," she said softly; honestly. I felt the air draining out of me.

"Right. Well have fun on your date," I said, turning to go.

Arizona exhaled loudly and tugged on my wrist. She kept me from leaving her office by anchoring me with her hand.

"Calliope, come on. Don't be upset with me."

"You know what, Arizona? I don't think I'm okay with being a _casual _dating experience for you. A _casual _sexual experience. I know what we agreed on in the beginning, but that's not going to work for me anymore."

"Don't act like _I'm_the reason we're not exclusive. Do you think I _like _knowing that I might be sharing you? That I enjoy lying in bed at night and wondering whose arms you're in?"

"I haven't been in anyone's arms but yours!" I yelled. "But you hear _one _thing about my past, and now you don't trust me."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. I didn't answer. "What do you want me to do? After the other night, I really thought things between us had changed. But then I hear about Mark and… I'm not ready to make a fool of myself again by assuming you only want _me_" she said, her cheeks red. "Ask me not to go and I won't go." Arizona looked at me pleadingly. "I won't go," she repeated, "if you ask me not to."

"I can't ask you that. I have no right to ask you that." I say this despite wanting nothing more than to ask that, scream that, make a service announcement about it. But I need this to be a decision that she comes to on her own.

I turned and walked towards the door. Before opening it, I looked back at Arizona.  
"I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" I said.

Arizona looked down and nodded, jutting her chin out. I quietly slipped out and shut the door behind me. 


	10. Chapter 10

I spent the night wallowing, alone in my apartment. All night, I watched the clock, imagining what they were doing. Where did she take her? Were they laughing? Talking? Learning each other? Was Arizona going to go home with her? I manipulated the details until I was sick to my stomach. I lay in bed watching the shadows crawl across the ceiling, and I fell asleep.

I was awakened by a knock on my bedroom door, followed by Christina nudging me.

"Wake up," she said, punching my shoulder.

"Ow, Christina, what?" I said, blinking furiously to get the sleep out of my eyes.

"You have company," she said. "You would know that if you didn't sleep through the doorbell."

"What time is it?" I asked, disoriented.

"2:30," she said, padding back to her room.

I rubbed my face and threw the covers off me. I made me way into the hallway where the light offended my tired eyes. In the living room, Arizona was standing, waiting for me.

"Arizona?" I said groggily.

"You've ruined me for anyone else," she said, dropping her purse on the ground. She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the carpet.

"What?" I asked, flopping down on the couch. "Are you just getting back from your date?" Arizona sat down in the easy chair across from me.

"Yes," she said, quietly. I knew what time it was. I knew this wasn't a good sign.

"Oh. How was it? No-," I stopped myself. "Nevermind. I don't think I want to know."

"It was... fun," she said. "We went out for Thai food, and then we went dancing, and then she asked me back to her place."

"Please stop," I said, holding up my hand. The mental images were causing the sickness in my stomach to flare up again and the only thing more embarrassing than this precise moment would be one in which I vomited in front of her.

"She kissed me," Arizona said.

"Arizona," I said firmly, warning her.

"I didn't stop her."

I'd had enough. I got up and started towards the door, indicating that I wanted her to leave. She quickly rose to her feet as I swung the door open.

"I couldn't do it, Calliope," she said. I turned around and glared at her, doorknob in hand.

"She kissed me, and it wasn't bad as far as kisses go, but I didn't feel anything. I didn't get butterflies in my stomach, or feel like my heart was going to explode. All I thought about was you. You've ruined me for anyone else."

I looked at her before letting the door swing shut. Somewhere in this town there's a woman whose eyes I'd like to claw out, but for now it'll have to wait.

"You look nice," I said, crossing the room towards her. "Your clothes look nice and your hair looks nice and I know that you did all that for her. So I hate that you look nice. I hate that it mattered to you what she thought. I hate that you wanted to impress her," I said, standing in front of Arizona now.

"I'm miserable that you didn't have a miserable time with her. I hate that she probably told you little anecdotal stories about her childhood. And that you probably put your hand over your heart and threw your head back, and 'ha ha ha!' laughed at her silly little jokes, even though they weren't funny, just to make her feel good.

"And I hate that I care about all these things, because I don't want to be _that _girl. Who smothers and suffocates you and assumes that she's your girlfriend when she's not. I don't want to be the girl who puts a leash on you. If you don't want to be with me and _only _me, then I'm not going to force you. But if that's your decision then I just don't think that I can—"

"Calliope," Arizona said, clamping her hand around my mouth. "I drove here, at 2:30 in the morning, because I needed to see you. Because being with someone else only strengthened my belief that me and you, we could be _great_ together. She kissed me and I thought of you. All night, no matter where we were or what we were doing, all I could think about was you. What you were doing. If I had hurt you. How I could fix it. I just... I never needed anyone but you, Calliope. But I got scared, when I thought that you might."

And I know that she's talking about Mark, but she'll never have to worry about that again.

Arizona dropped her hand from my mouth and reached down to grab my hand. "Don't you see? I'll never be the same, now that I've met you," she said quietly.

"Arizona?" I said, meeting her gaze.

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna go steady?" I asked, smiling.  
"Yes, please," she said, smiling. "Give me butterflies, Calliope."

I smiled, stepped forward, and took her lips with mine.

Arizona and I retreated to my bedroom a little before 3am. Christina, convinced that she'd never get any sleep, shuffled her way back over the hospital. I slowly stripped Arizona of her clothes and took off my own. We crawled into my bed and slipped between the sheets. We lay facing each other, her arms wrapped around my bare back, our warm breasts pressed together. I tucked a stray piece of her blonde hair behind her ear.

"Alright," she sighed. "You can make _one_ sarcastic comment about tonight and then we're dropping it, okay?"

I smiled broadly. I had been waiting for the opportunity to let loose.

"I was just wondering if she showed you just how _strong _her hands really are," I said teasingly, making my voice wistful and seductive. "Did she sledgehammer you a prize at the carnival? With her lumberjack strength?" I laughed, kissing Arizona's chin. She couldn't help but smile, despite the fact that I was making fun of her date.

"Are you done?" she said, wriggling away from my pokes.

"Yes," I laughed. "I feel so much better, thank you."

"I'd rather see how strong _your_ hands are," she whispered, her lips brushing mine as she spoke.

"You already know the answer to that," I replied.

"Show me again."

I gripped her lower back tightly and pulled her hips into mine. I let my nails dig into the skin near her ass, before grasping my way up her back. I could hear her breathing quicken. I rolled her effortlessly on top of me.

Enfolding my cheeks in her hands, she kissed me sincerely.

"You are so beautiful," she whispered. She dipped her head again, her tongue slowly stroking my bottom lip before delving into my mouth. I moaned involuntarily. If she wasn't so aroused herself I know she would smirk at having made me so crazy so quickly. Her kisses were long and languid, her tongue playing with mine in ways that I knew were indicative of something more.

I smoothed my hands over her shoulders, down her back and ever-so-lightly across her ass. I softly trailed my middle finger up and down the crack, teasing her. I felt her mouth twitch on my lips. Any twitch of hers could set my whole body on fire.

(And I thank God that no one else is making Arizona twitch but me).

Hugging her body to mine, I rolled her so that I was on top. Her cheeks were flushed already and I knew that mine probably were as well. Just a few kisses from her and the feel of her naked body against mine and I was incredibly wet. As she sat up to straddle me, I sat up with her, my thighs underneath hers.

We studied each other for a moment. God, she was gorgeous. I couldn't remember ever seeing someone more beautiful. My eyes filled with tears at the thought.

"What, baby?" she asked, her brows furrowed in concern. She brushed the hair out of my face. "What's wrong?"

"Arizona, I… I love you," I say.

"You do?" She asks, her face a mask of wonderment.

"I do."

"I love you, too" she responded, quickly pulling me by the neck into a deep kiss. When we broke for air, I rested my forehead against hers. Both of us smiling broadly. Feeling absolutely invincible. As I moved to kiss her mouth again, the annoyingly familiar buzz of a pager went off on the dresser. Sighing, she climbed off of me and walked across the room to retrieve it.

The page was obviously hers. She blew out her breath. "Thank god," she said, "I just need to call in for a sec." She shot me an apologetic smile.

I watched her on the phone as she stood, naked, giving another doctor her medication recommendations for a patient. As she hangs up, I am right behind her.

I wrap my arms around her, one across her stomach and the other across her breasts. She holds on to my forearms as she leaned back into me.

"I'm feeling a little possessive of you right now," I admit. "I can't stand the thought of you with someone else," I admitted. "Is that terrible?"

"No," she murmurs. "I'm yours for as long as you want me."

"I don't want to let go."

"So don't," she says, locking eyes with me in the mirror above the dresser.

My grip tightens involuntarily.

We both watch as I move my arm away from her chest, exposing her. Tenderly, I slide my hand up her torso until her breast is lying in my palm. The weight is so fucking perfect. All of it, mine. I feel her nipple tightening, constricting. Puckering as if waiting to be kissed. My heart beats infinitely faster.

I can't take my eyes away from hers as I continue kneading her breasts. Using both hands now, I squeeze them just a little harder than the situation warrants; I feel swept away by her in the way that makes me lose control. She doesn't mind. She exhales raggedly and leans back further into me.

I start to move my hands lower, down the crevice below her breasts and over her stomach. I run my nails across her protruding hip bones while I place a wet kiss onto her clavicle. I let my hand venture to the coarse, trimmed hairs above her sex.

Gripping my hand, Arizona guides me down to her center. I feel the heat before I feel the wetness. It is oozing off of her in palpable waves. I slowly part her folds with one finger and feel how wet she is. For a moment my eyes close in awe. I feel her clit softly beating against my fingertip, gaining power as I slowly circle it. She is so slick that I ease over every inch of her.

I go slow, too slow. I know. But I need her to feel this. See this. And in my own way, I need to claim it. Brand it into my memory. Even as I slide lower towards her opening, I keep this same desperately slow pace. I am rubbing her so slowly, but my aim is not to tease. I want to savor this lovemaking.

Arizona's head is laid back on my shoulder and her breathing is shallow but relaxed. I want her to feel relaxed. I want to show her what it means to have someone worship your body, because I certainly worship hers.

She turns her head so that her mouth is close to my ear. "You feel incredible," she whispers, followed by a soft moan as my fingers continue to explore her. "I bet you'd feel even better inside me."

Arizona's POV

The only way to keep Calliope from teasing me is to tease her – and she only needs to be teased a little bit before she absolutely breaks. I've learned this. That she is a sucker for dirty talk. That if I speak to her this sweetly, this innocently, she can't help but fuck me in the worst of ways (and by worst, I clearly mean best).

She smirks at me from behind, telling me that she knows what I'm doing, that it isn't going to work on her tonight, and yet I notice that her eyes have slid closed.

"Mmm, I'm not trying anything baby," I say sweetly, my hands resting on the dresser now. "I just thought you might want to feel how wet and tight I am for you." I make sure to bite my lower lip as she finds my eyes in the mirror and I can see how difficult I am truly making this for her.

She's still circling my clit slowly but I can tell I've interrupted her rhythm. She is shaking her head at me and before I know it, her free hand has grasped the back of my hair (the tug, as always, sending a thrill though my entire body).

"You're a bad girl," she purrs, her lips next to my ear. And her fingers are pressing just a bit harder now. I can feel just how swollen my clit is by how much of me she is able to touch.

"Punish me," I challenge her. But she is on to me.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? I think I'm just going to take my time with you. Rub you nice and slow until it physically hurts you not to cum."

"Okay baby, if that's what you want. I just thought it might feel nice for you, to have me wrapped about your fingers… To be so deep inside me."

Her fingers are inching closer to my opening and I know she's slipping.

"I just thought I'd tell you," I say softly, "that you don't need permission to fuck me. Because this is _your _pussy."

"Fuck," she groans, and she can't keep her fingers from sliding all the way inside me. I gasp at the sensation I've been waiting for. My head tries to instinctively drop but she is tugging on my hair, keeping me upright so that we are still looking at each other.

"You're right," she says hoarsely. "It is tight."

"And wet," I add.

"So wet," she agrees, her fingers pushing inside of me hard, then pulling out slow. Over and over.

"I thought you'd like it," I say, purposefully demurely. I am grinding my hips down onto her fingers, trying to make her move faster, harder. I can feel myself dripping despite her fingers being inside me and my hands find their way to her hips behind me, digging in.

She hisses and I know that I am giving her just the right amount of pain to really turn her on. She sinks her teeth into the flesh on my shoulder and her fingers take on a life of their own. She is fucking me faster now, recklessly. I feel my pussy stretching to take her in and it feels absolutely otherworldly.

As I come, I feel my orgasm flood out of me. Her hands, my legs, covered; irrefutable proof of the pleasure she had given me.

Callie's POV

Later that night (rather, early that morning) we are lying in bed, both of our bodies spent from hours upon hours of lovemaking. I kiss her lips and look into her eyes. She is looking at me like she's seeing me for the first time. Like our first time, on the train.

Only this time she doesn't have to wonder who I am, or if I'll call. If we'll ever see each other again. If she's just done something crazy with an absolute stranger.

This time she has me where she wants me. And I'm not going anywhere.


End file.
